Ternion || Oliver Wood

Chapter 132

The Elder Wand

"Break into a Gringotts vault?" the goblin repeated, wincing a little as he shifted his position upon the bed. "It is impossible."

The goblin answered like I thought he would. The Gringotts is a very secured place, and even if it is possible, it would be hard.

"No, it isn't," Ron contradicted him. "It's been done."

"Yeah," said Harry. "The same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago."

"The vault in question was empty at the time," the goblin snapped. "Its protection was minimal."

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful," uttered Harry, and with that I immediately got it. "It belongs to the Lestranges."

I sighed and shook my head as I held the bridge of my nose. I saw Hermione and Ron look at each other, astonished and quite confused.

"You have no chance," Griphook uttered flatly. "No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours —"

"Thief, you have been warned, beware — yeah, I know, I remember," Harry continued what the goblin was saying. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"

I smirked.

"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain," said Griphook finally, "it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers."

"Wand-carriers." I repeated, and looked at the wall, thinking about Ollivander who was just next door.

"The right to carry a wand," said the goblin quietly, "has long been contested between wizards and goblins."

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands," uttered Ron.

"That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!"

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either," said Ron. "You won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never —"

"It doesn't matter," I uttered, noting Griphook's rising color. "This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature —"

Griphook gave out a nasty laugh.

"But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?"

"We do!" Hermione said. She had sat up straight, her eyes bright. "We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!"

"Don't call yourself —" Ron muttered.

"Why shouldn't I?" said Hermione. "Mudblood, and proud of it!"

I smirked, Hermione is surely something.

"And I for once is who they call a blood traitor, seeking for freedom just as everyone else." I uttered. "We're hated just like muggle-borns. Just because we think differently from the other purebloods."